Just Be Patient
by WhereIsYourHeart10
Summary: Brennan is in a bar, talking to the bartender, who might help her see a different side of things. Aftermath of 'The Doctor in the Photo'. One-shot. Slight B/B.


**I have always been a huge fan of the show BONES, but I kind of fell off the bandwagon for this past season. So I've been catching up, and I just could not believe _The Doctor In the Photo!_ She finally comes to her senses, and Booth doesn't even act like he cares one bit! Oh man, let me tell you, I was quite mad at him, even though he's still cute... But, as we all know, they belong together. So I certainly cried my tears about that last episode, but I decided to write a little piece to give Bones hope, and maybe us fans as well. I didn't want to try to guess as to Booth's thoughts, so a Bones piece seemed more natural. **

**This one takes place maybe one or two weeks after that terrible, and wonderful, episode. Enjoy.**

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The only noises that captured Brennan's attention were the sound of the ice cubes clinking in her glass, every time she raised her Scotch to her mouth. The liquid burned less and less with every top-off; her new best friend Donny, the bartender, continued to indulge her requests for more, every time. In the back of her mind, she knew that the only thing stupider than getting drunk in a bar was actually getting drunk in a bar _alone. _However, Dr. Temperance Brennan didn't seem to mind, content with pushing around the peanut shells on the cherry-wood bar. _Besides, I have Donny._

"Did you know," she began conspiratorially, "that I examine _dead bodies _every day?" She swallowed the last of her (_eighth? ninth? tenth?) _drink, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

The bartender looked surprised, but he continued to dry shot glasses with his rag anyway. "Really?" he managed.

_Hiccup. _"Yep." Her head was resting in her hands, her elbows holding the weight of her head, her shoulders holding the weight of the world.

"It's what I'm best at, as a forensic anthri-, …anthrolo-, …anthripi-, …scientist."

Donny sat down the last of his shot glasses. At just a little past two AM, he was nearly off his shift, only thirty more minutes. Plus, with only one patron in the bar, he could afford to sit down and talk to her for a while.

"Long day at work then?" he gestured to her rumpled clothes and tired eyes.

She shook her head no, but then thought a minute. "Actually, that would be a correct estimation, Donny. When I'm solving a case, I usually stay at the lab for as long as it takes," she said, her eyes blinking slowly, considerably blood-shot.

He pulled his stool to place it directly across from her position at the bar, and leant his elbows in much the same position as hers.

"So, you solve crimes? Are you a cop?" he asked her, curious.

Again she shook her head in the negative, but stopped when it started to make her dizzy. "No, I work at the Jeffersonian, but I am a _liaison_ with the F.B.I. …Booth… he's an agent, and well, my partner." At this, her face fell, and she reached for her glass, but grimaced at its emptiness.

Donny pulled out the whiskey bottle from underneath the counter, and filled the glass half-full. Temperance nodded in silent thanks, sipping the liquid carefully.

"He why you drinkin'?" he gestured to her glass, already nearly empty again.

She didn't bother to correct his grammar- the peanut shells were suddenly _very _interesting again.

At her lack of response and inability to meet his eye, he chuckled lowly. "Figured."

Donny took her empty glass from her, putting it in the sink, but before Brennan could protest, he asked, "Love or sex?"

She guffawed at his boldness; so much like herself, before Booth practically trained her in social politeness.

But Temperance couldn't begrudge him, because the question sounded relevant to her situation. "Why those two?" she said instead.

"Sex complicates friendships and partnerships; love complicates it even more," he answered simply, twirling the mini-umbrella he had grabbed. "God help you if it's both."

She sighed, but shook her head no to that. "Love," she nearly-whispered, wanting to chastise herself for saying the word out loud; but it just seemed to roll from her tongue. Because that's what Angela said it was, and she had more experience with that side of personal relationships.

"Almost sex, once," she remembered, thinking back to their first real case, and what could have happened that night when it rained. Then she grimaced again; _that night had been rain-filled too._

"What stopped you?" he questioned gently.

Bones ran her hands threw her hair, tried to sit up straighter in the stool. "We worked together; I'd always heard that it was bad to mix business with pleasure."

She sighed; "And five years later, I wonder if that night would have fixed things now, or prevented our friendship- one of the only real relationships I had."

A beat passed.

"Does he love you too?" Donny asked, his eyes sad, for her.

Temperance swatted her hand, like trying to rid herself of thoughts buzzing around her head. Then she gestured to the Scotch bottle, on the shelf behind the bar.

"I think you've probably had enough, Doc."

She wanted to growl, irrational as it was. _What a surprise; more irrationality. It's become a bad habit._

"I am a perfectly capable adult, Donny." She folded her arms in a rebellious stance, only the slightest stutter on the word 'capable'.

"Definitely, Doc, but it's almost closing time. Maybe you should call a cab, take you home?" he suggested gently.

She sighed, and tried to fix her mussed hair. "Would you…?" she gestured to the phone.

" 'Course," he answered. As he dialed, and spoke quietly, Brennan tried not to fall backwards. _Maybe I did drink too much._

"It'll be just a minute, there's one a few blocks away."

"Okay," was all she could manage.

Pulling on her coat, she noticed the clock behind the bar. _2:21 AM? Damn._

She unsuccessfully tried to pull her scarf around her neck in a certain way, but decided to just wrap it around twice (_much simpler_, she reasoned).

She turned her body to face the large glass pane windows, steadying herself on the bar as she made it to her feet. Nearly lost in the sight of the falling snow, she barely registered the honk of the cab when it sounded.

"Cab's here, Doc," Donny said, debating on whether to walk her to the cab outside. His decision was made when she almost stumbled over the threshold when she got to it.

"Lemme help you out," he said softly.

She waited patiently for him at the door, and tucked her arm into the crook of his elbow fluidly. "Thank you," she murmured.

He opened the door for her, making sure she slid in fully before shutting the door softly.

Temperance rolled down the window as Donny stood in the cold, pulling his light jacket closer around himself.

"He did once," she said. "But I waited too long, and lost my chance."

It took Donny a moment to rack his brain as to what she was talking about, but when he did, he knew what she meant.

"Doc, sometimes you lose chances. Sometimes you pass them up. But there's always more- life is about taking chances, after all. And if this guy knows what's good for him, he'll give you one more. Don't let it pass you by."

His words rang out, and she sensed that this was something profound, something that he believed deeply, just like Booth and God. So she nodded somberly, and a small voice inside her prayed he was right as he waved goodbye.

When she told the cabby her address and he began to pull away from the curve, she continued to examine the back of the bartender who had just possibly shifted her world right-side-up again.

Because if there was a chance of a chance, well, then there was no reason to grieve completely; she just had to be patient.

And she had all kinds of practice with that, being a scientist and all.

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**Well this was my first BONES fanfic- what did you think?**

**Love it? Hate it? Tell me either way!**

**xoxo, WhereIsYourHeart10**


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